Ashes of Our Love
by iffulovedme
Summary: Atobe/Oshitari. Atobe/Jiroh. Atobe and Oshitari were perfectly happy. But then that changed and now they're not together. It's their last year of high school, their last chance to get it right. But will they?
1. Chapter 1

It's your eighteenth birthday. The party you're at right now was supposed to be a surprise party but Jiroh spilled the beans himself. It's your fault, though. See, you don't like surprises. At all. You don't like not knowing what's going to happen. So you seduced Jiroh and when he'd just come you asked him what was up. He was upset but then you assured him that you'd act surprised and kissed him. So he didn't complain.

The "surprise party" is at your mansion and seemingly all of Hyoutei is here. Usually the amount of people annoy you; you don't even know half of them. But it's your last year and why deny people the chance to be in your presence? Shishido pointed out snidely shortly after you arrived that they were just here for the food, like he was. But then you laughed which seemed to unnerve him and he walked away to find Choutarou.

Jiroh's talking to you animatedly but you're only half listening. You're mind is elsewhere, your eyes ceaselessly scanning the room for someone.

"He's not coming, Keigo."

Your back straightens. You don't insult Jiroh by asking what he's talking about. You're aware of Jiroh pushing a glass of white wine into your hand. You hold it, gripping it tightly. Then you raise it to your lips, taking a delicate sip.

"Why not?"

Jiroh shoots a pained look at you before murmuring quietly, "He didn't think you wanted him to come. I can call him, though, if you want…" Jiroh says the last part grudgingly which makes you smile slightly. The two of you are hooking up and clearly Jiroh doesn't like the idea of your ex-boyfriend coming in and sweeping you off your feet. As if. Oshitari Yuushi wouldn't. At least…he wouldn't now. But he might have once…Thoughts of the past hang around your head like unwanted ghosts, reminding you that Jiroh, while talented and devoted and lovely, was not your type.

"Why does it matter? It shouldn't, I suppose. We're not going out anymore," you say aloud, firm. Unshakable. You try to keep the melancholy out of your voice – but judging by Jiroh's expression you're not doing a very good job. So you offer him a weak smile. "Sorry I'm such a lousy date." You cup his face in your hands and kiss him soundly on the lips. They taste of strawberries and are so very sweet. "Mmmm." You lick his lips appreciatively and he opens his mouth, yielding to your probing tongue.

Shishido coughs somewhere to your left. "You two should get a room."

"Ryo, be nice," Choutarou scolds, his cheeks flushing. "Let's go to the buffet table."

Choutarou, you think smiling, coaxing the untamable with food. It was amusing to watch.

You and Jiroh stand there, your arms around his slender waist. He leans into you, whispering, "He never stopped caring, Keigo. We both know this." He smiles sadly, wistfully. Then he pulls away. "He watches your matches."

You cross your arms over your chest. "Doesn't everyone?" you ask tiredly.

Jiroh shakes his head. "You makes things so complicated," he said, like it explains everything. And maybe it does.

"Lots of people watch my matches," you say, dismissive. What you don't say because it's clearly in your voice is that you can't dwell on what might have been. You don't say you need this information even though it hurts, like baiting a dog with a bone then throwing it in the garbage.

"You didn't see his face," Jiroh remarks, starting to pace. "You-"

You hold up a hand and he falls silent. He's getting worked up about this, you realize. "Sorry."

This time you shrug, uncomfortable. Jiroh has nothing to apologize for. Because he's a good friend who cares about you, you think guiltily. You know that having a friends-with-benefits relationship with Jiroh is a mistake. That it's killing him slowly. But he can't stop, and you're too selfish to let him go.

"I'm going to go. Thanks for setting this up." The sincerity is genuine too. You give him back your wine glass.

Jiroh predictably protests, "Keigo… It's your birthday; we haven't sung happy birthday yet. And you still have to cut your cake."

You hesitate, noting the steel in his voice.

"You owe me that much at least," Jiroh concludes, handing you back your glass.

"All right." You suppress a sigh of irritation because you know he's right and run a hand through your hair, tousling it. You drain the glass and raise an eyebrow. "Get me another, would you? I promise not to move."

Jiroh's eyes light up and you absently think how pretty he is. He goes off to refill your glass. And you go back to staring into space, thinking of the past. Not missing it exactly, but all too eager to turn back the hands of time.

You're just about to wonder why Jiroh isn't back when the lights dim and your heart sinks. You know what's coming but it doesn't make your reaction any less grim. Your grit your teeth, hearing Gakuto's off key voice starting the over-used song, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Kei~go, happy birthday to you!"

Someone, you think it's probably Shishido, yells out that you look like a monkey and you smell like one too. You're about to call out, "Right back at you!" but then suddenly Jiroh appears holding the cake. It's in the shape of a tennis racket, go figure. And in the icing made strings is "Happy Birthday, Atobe Keigo".

"Happy birthday, Keigo. Make a wish."

You close your eyes obediently, making a wish. Well, it's nothing new. You've been wishing he was here all night.

Behind closed lids you are transferred back to that court. To that day a year and a few month ago.


	2. Chapter 2

_You stand across the net, facing Oshitari Yuushi. Your team mate, your lover, your best friend. And as of now, your opponent. And you can't, you just can't do it. For the first time, (well, maybe not the first) you are unable to look him in the eyes as you mutter the one phrase you have never said, having always abhorred and scorned those who did, "I forfeit."_

_And then you close your eyes waiting for the explosion. It comes as the court becomes eerily silent._

_"Keigo, what the fuck are you talking about?" Oshitari is outraged, and you expected no less._

_It's strange to hear Oshitari curse, and you focus on that novelty rather than responding._

_"I'm sorry, Yuushi. I…can't." And you walk away, leaving tennis and the one person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with behind._

_You can feel the accusing stares, the stunned glances. But you keep your posture straight. You are Atobe Keigo and no one sees you cry. Ever. When you get to the locker room, you sit down on the bench staring at your shoes. You wait for the tears to come and are upset when they don't. You slip your tennis racket into your back with the other two and decide not to change. You're too tired. You don't expect Oshitari to forgive you. It's been a dream the two of you share since your middle school days at Hyoutei. You were to make it to the US Open and face each other. Then, you would see who was truly the best. The buchou or the tensai. But that couldn't happen now. He'll understand, one day._

_You bite your lower lip and wonder how your team will respond. You wonder what school will be like, now, with your ex-best friend._

_High school is almost over. This is your last year. It will soon be time for college. And then the real world. So where does tennis fit in? You don't know. You may never see Oshitari again. The thought panics you and makes your heart hurt and your stomach clench painfully._

_You'll be eighteen in a few months. So why does it feel like your life is already over?_


	3. Chapter 3

Your eyes open and he's there, standing in the door way. Oshitari Yuushi with a purple ribbon tied in a new bow around his neck and a look of part sadness and part intense wistfulness. But maybe you're just projecting.

He glides to you and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

"Happy birthday, Keigo." He quirks his lips and his eyes are darker than usual, filled with a sort of hunger. For you.

You manage to tear your eyes away, seeking Jiroh. You find him, your eyes meeting his. He mouths, Happy birthday, buchou. He's grinning and you try not to see how fragile he looks, like he might collapse at any moment.

Though you love the spot light, you're not usually into public displays of affection. Tonight, however, you'll make an exception. You step forward until you're invading his personal space.

You hear Jiroh ushering everyone out of the room, feel the weight of his stare and pretend it doesn't bother you.

"I thought you weren't going to show," you accuse in a whisper, tilting your head ever so slightly to the side.

"I almost didn't. But Jiroh said I owed him." Oshitari's voice is strong and melodic.

Your eyes fall to half mast. "Oh?"

"Yes. He's the one who got us together if you'll recall. He told me there was an amazingly talented, gorgeous tennis player that I had to meet." He pauses and you wait for him to continue, knowing he will. "But then I pointed out that we broke up and you know what he said? He said, 'It's not my fault you fucked up with buchou. Just suck up your pride and go apologize.' And he's right. It's my fault. I should've asked what was wrong. I thought it was because you knew I'd learned Tezuka's zero shiki drop shot. That you were mad and refused to play me because of it. I took it personally; I thought it somehow meant you still loved him, that you couldn't bear to see anyone use his move other than him. That you still loved him."

"And now?" you prompt.

"I assume I was wrong," Oshitari says but there's a hint of confusion in his voice.

An idea hits you. "You still don't know why I forfeited."

He shakes his head.

"Well, you are right in a way. It is because of Tezuka's drop shot. I knew about it and didn't want you to use it."

"How did you find out?"

You fight down the urge to blush. "I could see it when we were having sex, the way your shoulder wouldn't work properly. I knew you couldn't be talked out of using it and I knew you would use it during our match. But I couldn't have that. Tezuka suffered so much because of what I'd done. He's my rival and we share a bond, it's true. But that's neither here nor there. The point is I didn't trust myself. I can't hold back when I play you. If I had played that day, I would've gone at you with everything I had and done irreversible damage."

Oshitari's eyes are closed, deep in thought. Remembering, most likely, that fateful day when a friendship bordering on love ended and a bitterness made itself known. You were about to leave the locker room when the other door banged open.

_"You didn't believe I could do it. You still don't believe it." Cold, harsh words flung in your direction, cutting like glass shards. _

_You say nothing. He thinks he needs to say this, and who are you to disillusion him? _

_"You're just jealous- you don't want anyone to steal his move. Is that it? I'm right, I know I am." _

_Each word embeds itself into your memory. You wince as though you've taken a physical blow. _

"Is that it? Is that where we went wrong?" his tone is pleading, begging for an answer that has long eluded the both of you. But now things are starting to make sense.

You shake your head. "No. The final straw came that weekend day."

"Ah."

Your mind brings you back to that day.

_Oshitari finds you holding Tezuka's arm out extended in front of him, examining his shoulder. You are mid-caress, the look on your face one of utmost concentration, when Oshitari barks out a cruel laugh. _

_"I was coming to see if you were all right," he drawls. "But I see you're fine. It was careless of me. Take care of him, Tezuka." _

_He bows slightly before standing straight again. He spins, walking briskly out the door. You know there's heartbreak written across his face, because you can feel from Tezuka's pitying stare that it's written on yours too. _


	4. Chapter 4

"You were so ready, so quick to believe," you start but interrupt yourself. "Yuushi, you were scared of love." It sounds strange, hearing you say it. But it's true. You start again, "You didn't honestly think I was still in love with Tezuka," you say, just for the sake of saying it. But it carries the unexpected weight of truth. "Wait a minute. You didn't."

He looks away. "No, but it gave me the perfect out. I could just blame this all on you, on your 'infidelity'." He sighs then rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm. "I was just feeling suffocated by your love, I guess. It was too serious for me; I'd never been in a real relationship before."

You nod understandingly. "Neither had I though. We could've taken it slower, you could've said…"

But he gives you an incredulous look and your words peter out.

"Ask Atobe Keigo to take something slow? No, I didn't think so. And it wasn't even that I didn't want to go all the way- I did. I wanted it so badly. Oh, I don't know Keigo."

You command him gently. "Yuushi, look at me." He does. "Never be afraid to ask me anything. Trust me and trust yourself."

"I know." And his smile, the real one that charmed you in the first place, is back. "I still want you, but you already knew that."

"Yes." You grin widely at him, about to kiss him when he opens his mouth to speak.

"What about Jiroh?" he asks quietly.

"He knows we're not meant to be anything other than friends," you say impatiently.

"Still, you should break up with him officially."

Your eyes narrow suddenly. "You don't have someone else, do you?"

He says no but you stare at him and he concedes. "A few flings, but we never had sex and they were nothing compared to you."

You unbend slightly. Better. Still, you'll be getting those names out of him later.

"It was rather hard to find anyone," he comments, taking your hand in his. "Because they were all afraid of what you'd say. You know, I tried hooking up with Gakuto but he said he didn't feel like getting his head chopped off if people found out he'd taken Ore-sama's boyfriend."

Good to know, you think.

"Everyone at Hyoutei is so loyal to you," he muses, slightly grinning down at you. "They knew we would get back together."

Enough of this serious talk, you think.

"I'll go call Jiroh." You pause. "Then I want to unwrap my birthday present." You gesture at the bow still fastened to Oshitari's neck.

"But first," Oshitari lowers his head a faction of an inch and your lips met in a kiss filled with alacrity, fierce longing and barely restrained lust. Then you're forced to part because you really do owe it to Jiroh to call.

"I'll be right here when you get back." You turn away before he can catch you and kiss you again. You walk slowly, sashaying your hips. But you don't look back because you know he's watching. And it feels good, you think. It feels more right than anything has in a long time.

~Fin


End file.
